Lyrics:
alright for the shape I'm in
Sitting by a fire with some damn good friends
Willie on my left, Jack on my right
Blowin' that smoke on a Friday night
that white bitch, cocaina have you seen her?
I got pounds of keisha
Keys of the coca
Voted number one D-Boy by the fiends and the smokers
Dope
a single strife
City got a special way to make you feel like
You ain't jack by day, but you're Queen and King of the night
I guess thats why I keep an ace in
drip expensive sweater
She act crazy I can't sweat her
Got some brand new dripping leather
Down from Pittsburgh by the rivers
Like the US Jack the Ripper
Blue, white and red / Red, white and blue
We stand together / as we carry you
Blue, white and red / Red, white and blue
We'll hold you high / One
won’t
Leave gracie by herself
Yeah
Yeah baby
Gracie made me
Leavin’ jack d
I don’t want it
You fly me high
Out of my mind
Modern art
Straight thru my
Take what you want, tie they a** up
Just don't, get, no, blood on the dope
Just don't, get, no, blood on the dope
Bring it back all white
Words and music by John Kay
Good evening one and all, this is channel 24
Bringing you the latest news around the world
Down in Florida today,
feel)
A young nigga sellin' fruity by the pound (that's how ya feel)
And I got the best white in the town (that's how ya feel)
.45 on my lap, it's
[Incomprehensible]
Shit is realla then you think, man, you must not know
It takes a lot to walk a day in the life of Fat Joe
The place I'm from, MTV don't wanna film
devil, shooting like Halo at that rap god
I’ma make this black n white, y’all white chalk on that blacktop
I grew up on that blacktop, I don’t talk shit
buckets we'll still be Cool
All our Art is picked Apart by Vultures
And everyone but us profits off our Culture
Black lives matter but not as much as Pepsi
for props, man this shit is not a film
My nigga feel like Snoop Dogg, cause he a P-I-M-PImp
Oh, bitch, I'm him, bitch, I'm that
Oh, bitch, I'm him,
enormous
Played a performance, niggas getting paid on performance
A lot of ya'll hate cause my women is gorgeous
I mean they a work of art, something out
no sense of direction
Tension is building in a white heart pub
By the time we drove by the floor's covered in blood
Man next to me said oh, fucking
had like jazz
If you down for change then they take your voice away
And then they tell you the best is white
Co-signed by a nigga that pimped the mic
down
At floating feet on solid ground
You're spinning plates
But slowing down
To stop and stare
I heard you talking to those dead film stars
Backlit by
way Jack, the position's nigga-proofed
Necklace cobra tooth
Shell casings like bric-a-brac
Otherwise place is like new
Winnie the Pooh half nude
Fingers
the Love and Hip Hop episodes always bout a fight?
I'm starting to think the tv got something against the mic
Unless the control is white
And bet for
you up with a wig
Yo', Dead Art
This is Dead Art
Black people had a mothaf*****'
Rough dead start
Decentralized our minds
By tearing us apart
Racism
Life's a fog at night red brake lights
The freeway beside a restaurant
Cold egg whites sat on my plate like
3 AM this is a spot frequented by some
Have the cash to spend
My style is hazardous
You really should not listen
My bars are snuff films
That shit will just stay with you
Until you lose your
in arts name.
Film the flames as they dance and swa.y
Repeat on film the makeup of our estates,
and like it always would
We returned
two days after
the proof now
Something in the art of the arc of truth
Something in the art of the loss of youth
So now I'm repressing depression
Fueled by the drugs in my
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